Pure Heart and Good Intention
by SophieSaulie
Summary: Dean has to enlist the aid of a psychic to help Sam face his fears and they both find strength from an unexpected source.
1. Chapter 1

**A heartfelt thanks must go to Tiffany for her invaluable support while I was writing this story. As well as taking on the odious task of being my beta reader. This story hasn't been an easy one to write. I got stuck in so many places and it could have easily been left languishing on a table somewhere unfinished, but Tiffany helped tremendously in keeping ideas flowing, encouraging new angles of approach, and literally kept this story alive so I wanted to thank her and also say that it never would have seen the light of day without her help. Thanks again, Tiffany! **

**Pure Heart and Good Intention**

**Chapter One**

_**5 Months earlier:**_

"_Dean?"_

"_Sam?" Dean said, his voice hoarse as he turned to his little brother._

_The elder Winchester was hooked up to IVs and felt a constant, dull ache. It was manageable and he preferred controlling the pain rather than being drugged. He needed his senses. Still, he couldn't hold back a grimace as he took in a deep breath._

"_You okay? Should I get a doctor -–"_

"_No doctors, all right? I've been examined, poked, prodded and drained of fluid enough. I'm fine."_

_As usual, Sam wasn't all together convinced. Dean always kept up the bravado when it came to hiding how much pain he really was in so his little brother wouldn't worry. Sam decided to just let it go for now because he was just glad Dean was conscious._

"_How are you holding up?" Dean asked, his face contorting with worry and pain._

"_I'm fine, Dean. I'm not the one in a hospital bed --."_

"_You know what I mean," Dean said as he turned the tables, grimacing again. His chest was throbbing from the wounds and he was finding it harder to breathe._

"_I'm okay, really." Sam insisted quietly._

"_Is dad still --"_

"_Wallowing? Yeh, but he'll live to get over it, I'm sure." Sam said sarcastically._

_Dean felt the tension building in Sam. He knew that he and their father were probably already fighting. They could never go very long without getting on each other's nerves. He was worried that things would soon come to a boil and he would be helpless to stop it. He was even more worried that blame would be cast because of what happened to him and words would be said that couldn't be taken back causing wounds that might never heal. _

_Before Dean could call Sam on his comment, he clenched his eyes in obvious pain and his breathing became erratic. He tried to mouth something, but nothing came out, just strangled air. _

"_Dean? What's wrong? Dean?" Sam panicked. "Somebody! My brother, something's wrong!" Sam yelled._

"_S…Sam…" Dean gasped before he stiffened then went still._

_Alarms blared and a phalanx of doctors and nurses rushed into the room, pushing Sam out. He became paralyzed as he watched them work on Dean, trying to get his heart to start again._

"_Please, no, don't let anything happen to him…not when he's made it this far," Sam's inner voice screamed. "He can't have lived through all this and not make it."_

_**oooo**_

_A couple of weeks later, Sam continued to keep vigil by Dean's bed. A respirator kept Dean breathing, but nothing else stirred. Machines kept reminding Sam that Dean was still alive, like the steady blip of the heart monitor, but the man who was his brother was still silent. The longer he was, the more Sam lost hope of ever hearing his voice again, that scared him more than any demon._

_Then suddenly, Sam felt Dean's hand twitch. He looked up at him, Dean's eyes slowly opening. They were tired and rimmed with shadows, but somehow he managed to wink at his little brother. He then weakly lifted his hand and gave him a thumbs-up in reassurance. Even in his condition, he was exerting what energy he had left just to let Sam know he was okay and not to worry. He always found the strength to put Sam first._

**oooo**

Dean looked over to the passenger side of the Impala, and saw Sam nervously work a hangnail on his finger, something he always did when he was upset or scared. It made Dean worry and ache to help him, but there was nothing he could do except to beat the land-speed record to Missoula, Montana.

It had been 5 months since the three of them had met face to face with the demon that had killed their mother and let get away. In Dean's mind, it was a no-brainer and he had no regrets. Live to kill another day was his feeling, and it hadn't been worth killing their father. Sam seemed okay with that, but he was having a tougher time getting over being helpless to prevent Dean from getting attacked so brutally. Dean kept telling him that the most important thing was that he had survived, but Sam still wasn't buying it.

Their father didn't help either, festering in his own guilt at not being able to prevent the demon from hurting Dean. He had stayed long enough to make sure he had recovered fully and that the medical bills had been paid, but then he had left, leaving a note for his sons, telling them he couldn't endanger them again. That had almost been the last straw for Sam. Dean had been angry at their dad for abandoning them to feed his own guilt without thinking about how it would affect Sam. Sam felt like their father was blaming him for not saving Dean, and for letting the demon get away. Nothing Dean had said would convince him otherwise.

Finally, after Sam had started to become more and more withdrawn, Dean had decided to take drastic measures. He had called Missouri, as much as a part of him dreaded it. She was the only woman who could intimidate Dean into feeling like a five-year-old again.

"Dean Winchester, as I live and breathe. What on earth would possess you to call me at this ungodly hour?"

Dean looked at his watch and realized he hadn't considered the time difference.

"I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking," Dean paused as he tried to swallow down the catch in his throat.

"You sure weren't thinking. What is the matter with you?" She scolded.

"It's Sam. I need your help, Missouri."

Missouri felt the emotion through the phone, and though she had always been a little tougher on Dean, she always knew he had been strong enough to take it. But hearing his voice, sounding frail and lost, her heart broke for him. She couldn't bring herself to treat him like she usually did. That boy loved his brother, Missouri thought to herself, there was no doubt about that.

"You just tell Missouri what's happened."

Dean took a shaky, deep breath and went into detail about what they had gone through the past 5 months.

Missouri listened sympathetically and kept her anger at their father to herself. Dean didn't need that and she had to help them both.

"Dean, honey, tell you what you're going to do. You're going to Missoula, Montana. There's a psychic there stronger that anyone I have ever known. If anyone can help sort out Sam's troubled mind and soul, it will be her. "

"What if –" Dean forced out, his throat clogged with tears he was desperately trying to keep under control.

"We won't cross that bridge just yet, you hear me?" she said softly. "You don't give up on Sam, he needs you more than ever."

"You're right. What do you want me to do?" Dean asked, clearing his throat of emotion and she could feel him taking control again. That boy was a strong one.

Missouri loved the boys like they were her own. They had gone through so much and had come out of all of it as strong as could be expected, considering. She knew that Sam had the gift, or the beginnings of it, and that Dean had been the strength of that family. She had known all along that without his big brother, Sam would never have survived his childhood. She had felt something with Dean as well, but could never pinpoint it. All she knew for sure was that he had single handedly kept that family together.

"That's what I want to hear. Now, do you have pen and paper handy?"

"Yeh."

"Take all this down."

**oooo**

Dean drove into Missoula and had found the back road that Missouri had told him about. He turned onto it, and as he approached the house, he saw the sign, Esperanza Rivers.

"Sam, we're here," he announced.

Sam looked up as Dean drove up the circular driveway to the front of the house. He shut the engine off and stepped out. Sam followed.

"You okay?"

"Yeh, I'm okay."

Dean wasn't convinced, but he gave Sam the space he needed and didn't question.

They walked up the steps and Dean knocked on the door. It opened immediately and startled them both.

"Sam and Dean, right?" a 50-ish, but youthful woman greeted as she looked from one man to the next, able to identify them even without having met them before.

"Uh, yeh," Dean stuttered, a little caught off guard.

"Come in, come in. Missouri told me you were coming, but nothing else. I wanted to be unclouded, not influenced. Would you like something to drink?"

"No, I'm fine," Dean said, "Sam?"

"I'm okay, too." He said softly.

Esperanza Rivers was a striking woman with jet black, shoulder length hair and dark, soulful brown eyes that seemed bottomless, yet she had a welcoming and comforting smile that helped diffuse the tightly wound tension between Sam and Dean. As soon as they walked in she felt the strongest vibration come from Dean. She knew instinctively that he was the protector.

"Sam, why don't you have a seat there on the couch, while I talk with Dean."

"Me? What? I'm not –" Dean began to object.

"It will just take a minute," she assured Sam then grasped Dean's arm to guide him gently into another room.

"What? What's wrong?" Dean asked, concerned.

"Nothing yet, but I sensed that you're not a believer and I needed to talk to you in private."

Dean understood and stopped his protesting.

"No offense," he apologized.

"None taken, but I have to tell you that no matter what you think of the gift, or of me, I need you be open and responsive for Sam's sake."

"If it helps Sam, you can count on my cooperation."

"What I really need is your faith."

Dean paused.

"I know you question it because of Layla, but go deep within yourself to find whatever you can for Sam."

Dean looked at her, surprised at first that she had sensed his thoughts, then nodded his head.

"Can you trust me?"

Though Dean was inherently distrusting -- an occupational hazard -- she gave off a warmth, and something intangible he couldn't label, that made him feel that he could trust her on sight alone. That, and her uncanny read of him solidified it for him. She made him feel secure like his mom used to. It felt like she was in the room with him.

"She is," Esperanza said, surprising him again. "She's here with us. She is always with the both of you, but I feel her here now. She loves you both very much."

Dean swallowed hard. "She's here?"  
"Yes."

"But how? Missouri told Sam that she had…"

Dean couldn't bring himself to say that she had been destroyed at their house, that she had sacrificed herself to save them from the poltergeist. Just remembering seeing her, hearing her voice say his name after 22 years of silence, shook him.

"She lost her ability to intervene like she had at your house, but her essence can never be destroyed, her love for both of you will live on forever and can transcend all barriers. I can feel her, and through me, she can tell you things you need to know."

Dean was struggling to keep his composure.

"She feels your pain, Dean. You don't need to say anything, she hears you without having to hear your voice. Your heart speaks to her and she feels it ache for Sam."

"Sam needs to hear that. He needs to know she's here."

"I know, and he will. Now, will you trust me?"

"Yes," Dean said without hesitation.

"Good, then stay here while I read Sam. I sensed that there's a part of him that is scared to death, and though I don't know why, I do feel that he'll hold back with you in the room, not to hurt you, but to keep you from hearing what he fears. Do you understand?"

Dean nodded. "Do what you need to do."

She took Dean's hands into hers and squeezed them in comfort. She felt a wave of uncertainty, fear, and love hit her.

She left the room and closed the door behind her. She went over to Sam and sat in front of him on an ottoman.

"Where's Dean?" he asked.

"He's in the other room. I feel that reading people one-on-one is best. It's more relaxing and your thoughts and feelings can flow more smoothly. I know you love your brother, but I sense that you are hiding something from him, and I need to know everything. You can't hold anything back. If you do, you're only hurting yourself and I want to help you. Do you understand?"

Sam nodded.

"Sam, you should know that your mother is here with us."  
"What?" Sam exclaimed, both shocked and anxious.

"She has always been with the both of you. Like I just told Dean, she wasn't destroyed at your old house. Your heart speaks to her and she feels your pain."

"Mom can hear me?" Sam asked, emotion riddling his voice.  
"Yes, Sam, she has never left you since the time you were a baby. Her love has never diminished."

"I never got to know her," Sam said, sadly.

"I know, but she lives inside of your soul always. She needs to know you understand that."

Sam nodded. "I do."

"She is proud of the man you have become, that you have given strength to your brother and have kept him together. She tells me that he draws on your ability to see the good in people whenever it wavers inside him. You keep him believing in it by seeing it in your eyes. Your mom needs you to know and believe that what happened to her wasn't your fault and she aches because your father forced both of you into the demonic world. It's important to her that you not blame yourself. It's holding you back, and that hurts her, knowing that it is keeping you from living your life."

"It's worse for Dean. He's been trapped there. At least I left, got to taste life outside of Dad's obsession."

"Sam, your mother is smiling because you're mistaking Dean's devotion for imprisonment. Dean has never been trapped in the life. She says that if any good can be said about what happened to the both of you, it was that he had found his place as your protector as well as the protector of others, and wouldn't trade it for anything normal. Hunting became his calling. She says he stayed so that you could go. He gave you your freedom and was happy to do it. It wasn't at the expense of his own like you think."

"It wasn't?"

"No, Sam. It wasn't. Dean doesn't always express it, but you need to know that he has never regretted the direction his life turned. He doesn't see it as a bad life."

"I never knew," Sam said, "I guess it was easier to think that he didn't want the life as much as me."

"Sam, we have to find a way to help you discover what you need to make you accept what's happened and release this blame you insist on inflicting on yourself. You have to know that your happiness and peace of mind is what your mother, and especially Dean, want for you. It's all they have ever wanted." She paused. "Now, let me try to help you. Please give me your hands."

Sam complied silently. Esperanza closed her eyes and absorbed the feelings that were coming through. There was pain, loss, appreciation, and love for his brother.

She looked at Sam. "I see you losing Jess, your girlfriend. I see your strained, but loving relationship with your father. Most of all, I see your deep love and commitment to your brother, Dean. You're troubled, you're worried that you're putting him in danger because of your gifts…" She paused again. "You worry you'll get him killed someday…you feel like you almost got him killed when you faced the demon that killed your mother…you felt helpless to stop it, to save him."

"Yes…" Sam said, barely a whisper on his lips.

"You're worried that you are like the other young man, Max, because he had your past, your gifts."

"Yes."

"Sam, I feel your energy and your good soul. You're much stronger than Max."

"I don't feel very strong."

"Max didn't have anyone to protect him when he was being abused as a child, and no one to love him enough to believe in him. You have always had Dean. He believes in you, and he has been there, protecting you all along, making sure that you became the man that you are. Max used his gift to exact vengeance on those who hurt him. He twisted it to suit his needs and was irrevocably lost to the darkness. You could've been lost too, when you lost Jess, but you knew you had Dean and you turned to him. Most importantly, he was there for you as he always has been, and as he always will be. That's the difference."

"I know, and that's what scares me," Sam responded quietly.

"You're worried that someday he won't be…because of you," Esperanza sensed, then her eyes widened a little. "You once told someone…Sarah? That you thought death followed you because of what happened to your mother and Jessica. You think you're cursed…you think Dean's next…Sam, you're holding back. I can feel it. If you want me to help you, you have to let go."

Esperanza closed her eyes and tried to read deeper, to try to find a way to sense what Sam was holding back. She then discovered it, and took in a breath.

"You've been having visions, haven't you?"

Sam looked away.

"The visions have been about Dean…you've seen him die in them, haven't you?"

Sam just nodded his head.

"You think he's going to die and you'll be helpless to stop it, don't you?" Esperanza asked sympathetically.

"Yes," Sam uttered softly.

**oooo**


	2. Chapter 2

**Pure Heart and Good Intention**

**Chapter Two**

Dean couldn't stop pacing, worry etched across his normally handsome, confident features. He wasn't used to just sitting around and letting things happen. Fighting demons, he understood, could do, and did well, but this, "invisible" demon that Sam was fighting, he had to fight alone, and Dean couldn't do anything to help him. He had no weapon to fight it, and worse yet, Sam was fighting him. What gave him comfort was hearing that their mom's spirit was there with them. Maybe knowing that would help Sam where he couldn't. It helped him to know that his feelings of her presence had been confirmed. It was becoming harder and harder for him to maintain his control over his emotions. He felt completely overloaded.

He heard the door open and turned abruptly to see Esperanza standing there. Her face was sympathetic, but it gave Dean a chill.

"What? What is it?" Dean asked, more urgently than he had intended.

"Sit down, Dean," she said. He did, but his eyes darted around, searching her face for answers.

She sat in a chair opposite him.

"Please tell me what happened," Dean insisted gently.

"I will, but first, I need to do a read of you."

"What? Why?" Dean asked nervously.

"It's vital to Sam that I feel and understand what you're feeling."

Dean paused.

"You told me that you trusted me," Esperanza said.

"It's not you I don't trust," Dean responded nervously.

"You don't trust yourself…you're hiding something, aren't you?"

Dean didn't answer.

"If you want to help Sam, then you can't keep secrets. It's these secrets that will ultimately destroy you both. I can't help you if you can't be open with me."

He nodded, and reluctantly offered her his hands. They were trembling. _Demons I can handle, but this…_

"Dean, don't be afraid, of me, or of the truth. I already know so much just from your strong presence. You make everyone feel safe and secure just by being there for them."

"I don't feel very strong."

She smiled, "Sam said the same thing about himself, but you both underestimate how strong you are and how much strength you draw from each other."

"Is mom still –"

"She's still here, Dean. Her soul is smiling with pride for the both of you, but right now she's telling me how grateful she is for all you have done for your family. Most of all, for how brave you have been, not only for Sam, but for every innocent you have helped. She needs you to know that you are a good man and that she is proud to call you her son."

Dean almost lost his tenuous control and could only look into Esperanza's eyes. He was afraid to voice his feelings, for fear that once he began, they would never stop.

"You don't have to say anything. She knows how you feel. Now, will you give me your hands?"

Dean nodded, and she took them into hers. They felt cold and she found herself absently rubbing them to warm them up. She then closed her eyes. Despite his cold hands, she felt a wave of warmth fill her. She felt the energy flow through her, purifying her as it ebbed. She felt light-headed and started to fall forward, but Dean caught her.

"Are you all right?" He asked, concerned, as he grasped her shoulders.

"Yes. I was just overwhelmed," She said, feeling more of Dean's emotions come into her, almost soothing her.

"Well, I do have that effect on some people," Dean joked.

Esperanza smiled at him. She admired his ability to cope with so much and still be able to be self-deprecating. Even as worried as he was about his brother, he was trying to keep himself grounded, knowing Sam would need that stability.

"Is there something wrong?" He asked, worriedly.

"No, no, what I felt…it was…strong. It was the purest good that I have ever felt. I felt love, overpowering, unending, for your mother, for your father despite his abandonment, but most of all for your brother. It is the most powerful for Sam…but there's more. You have a fierce warrior spirit, you fight, but you possess so much compassion, Lucas, Michael, Andrea, and Haley all have benefited from your caring nature...you comfort, you battle not only to save your family, but for all wrongs committed against innocence. You have courage…a fearless courage…failure is not an option for you."

Dean looked away, unable to voice the pain he felt for the lives he couldn't save. Esperanza sensed it.

"You can't save everyone, but you try…you try very hard. Your intentions are true and undefeatable. You give everything of yourself to the point of self-sacrifice, if needed. Your singular determination is to make sure as many people as possible are spared suffering at the hands of any evil. I feel that. Your heroism pervades everything. It ebbed through me, that's why the light-headedness."

Esperanza paused. "Everything I felt was exactly as your mother told me. She has good reason to be proud. You are a protector. It's all you want to do, to protect Sam, of course, but it goes beyond him. You think of it as a coping mechanism because of all you have lost, your mother, your childhood, Sam's childhood, but it's much more, Dean. If it were only just that, you would have never have survived as long as you have. You would have been reckless as your father has been, and to some degree as Sam sometimes can be, driven by anger, loss, and vengeance. What you do is more of a mission. Something you were born to do." She paused again. "I understand now."

"What? Understand what?"  
"I still don't know what Sam's role will be in this world yet, probably because it is still forming, developing. Thankfully, unlike Max, he has you to keep him on track, to keep him from the darkness, but whatever awaits him, it was something he was born to do, to be. Just as being his protector as well as the champion of others is what you were born to do, to be. Your mother's soul is confirming this."

Dean could only stare at her half-understanding.

Then she got up and opened the door between the two rooms and Sam looked up.

"I think that's enough for today. You need to get some rest. We've covered a lot of ground. Now, of course, I insist that the both of you stay."

"We don't want to impose –" Dean started to say.

"Nonsense, I insist. I have this huge house and no one to share it with. Besides, it might be a good idea to stay close until Sam's better. Sam, why don't you go on upstairs and take either of the first two rooms."

Sam smiled shakily and started walking up the stairs. Dean, still feeling confused by her revelations, headed out to the car to bring in their stuff. Esperanza watched them both and took in a deep breath. Two extraordinary men, she thought to herself. So much love between them, yet so much pain.

**oooo**

Evening had fallen and Sam was asleep in his room. After Dean had checked up on him, he walked out onto the front porch, unable to sleep, fear and uncertainty seeping into his bones.

Esperanza came out to check on him and felt Dean's fears.

"May I join you?"

"Sure," Dean said.

"How are you holding up?"

"It's not me I'm worried about," he laughed nervously.

She looked at him then sensing something, turned serious.

"Why haven't you told him?" She asked.

Dean turned to look back at her. He was learning not to be surprised anymore and didn't bother trying to hide anything from her.

"He's got enough to worry about."

"Don't you think he should know?"

Dean leaned against the railing.

"I will tell him, but not until he's okay. He just can't handle anymore right now, and I won't add another burden. He'd blame himself."

He recognized the wave of rising pain. He fisted the railing with his hands, and moaned softly. Once the pain passed, he took in a shuddering breath.

"What if I were to tell you he already knows?"

Dean turned, shock in his eyes, "What?"

"Not the specifics, but he's been having visions. Visions of what he fears most. You dying. He hasn't given me details. He's holding back."

Dean felt the weariness finally hit him. Holding back all that tense emotion was eating away any energy reserves he had.

Esperanza looked at him. "You're dying." She said it more as a statement.

Dean sat back down in the chair.

"You're afraid as well, but not of dying. You're afraid of leaving Sam alone, vulnerable."

"Fighting the demon then the car crash left me with muscle damage to my heart." He knew she already knew, but for some reason he felt like telling her in his own words, maybe it was the control freak in him. "My aorta was involved too. I'm going to have chronic pain for the rest of my life and they say that over time, it's going to get worse. There's meds for it, but I don't take them. They dull my senses. Pain has been a part of my life since as far as I can remember. Adding a little more isn't going to change how I deal with it. I just can't be off my game. I have to stay sharp for as long as I can."

"For Sam and those you save."

He nodded.

"The doctors told me that any kind of overexertion or stress could kill me. Hell, this job I do could kill me any time. I've been on borrowed time my whole life so facing death doesn't scare me, but I can't leave Sam the way he's feeling now. There has to be a way to give him the life he wants. I chose this life, but he needs to choose his before I -."

He looked down at his hands.

"I need to know that I won't be leaving him feeling he has to live my life because he'll feel responsible for my death. I don't want to leave that legacy to him."

Esperanza was moved by Dean's reluctant, but earnest, admission.

"The two of you are connected in ways I have never known in all my years reading people. Your bond as brothers goes beyond blood," she said gently.

"All I want is to give him hope, to give him a will to live, give him my will to live, if there's a way to do it."

She looked at him, his mother's pride melding with hers for him.

"Dean, you are Sam's will to live. The only thing that keeps him from moving forward is his fear that he'll lose you. It is slowly paralyzing him. If anything happens to you, if his vision comes true and you die, he will be lost. He will become Max."

Dean looked into her eyes, his welling with tears, but his face etched with determination.

"Tell me how I can stop it."

"The only way is to prevent your death. Sam will be consumed by the darkness without you there to protect him. His gifts are slowly developing, but he isn't there yet and it makes him vulnerable. There is a future for him using these gifts for good, but even I can't see what that future is. It's too far ahead. All I can tell you is that without you to keep him centered, protected, loved, he will allow all the evil that gravitates around him to exert their influence. They all lie in wait for an open opportunity."

"But I am going to die, maybe not today or tomorrow, but eventually, if my injuries don't do me in, then some thing we hunt will. As invincible as I'd like to think I am, I know that I'm not."

She smiled. "It's what we all have in common, Dean. Birth and death, the rest is up to us, but because of your importance to Sam's future, you, too, need protection."

"From what? From whom?"

"From death itself."

"Unless you know something that I don't, I can't be protected from that," He said pragmatically.

"There is a way."

"A way to what? To make me immortal?" He joked.

"No, but the next best thing. To make you whole again so that you have a fighting chance, so you can protect Sam, protect innocence," She smiled.  
"If you're talking about a healing, I've been there and done that and won't go through it again."

"I'm not a reaper, Dean. I am not Roy, but I do possess more powers than just psychic ability. A healer doesn't steal lives."

"You mean you can…"

"Heal your injuries, yes, but it won't be easy."

"What is, these days?" He joked.

"And it must involve Sam."  
"What? No, it can't, there must be another way. I won't ask anything more of him," Dean insisted, afraid of putting Sam through more pain.

"Dean, this also serves a second purpose. He is instrumental to your healing, if it succeeds, it will be the restoration of his confidence. He will have saved you from what he fears."

"And if it doesn't succeed?"

Esperanza didn't say anything.

"Don't answer that," Dean said. "Let's do it."

**To Be Continued….**


	3. Chapter 3

**Pure Heart and Good Intention**

**Chapter Three**

Dean awoke early the next morning, showered and dressed before anyone else was up. Despite his best efforts, he'd had a fitful night's sleep, barely getting an hour or two at best after saying good night to Esperanza. He'd left Sam still sleeping. It was one of the few times that he had seen him undisturbed by nightmares, and he needed the rest. He looked around the kitchen, and found some coffee and the coffee maker so he decided to brew a pot for everyone. After it was finished, he took a cup for himself. That was when the pain started. It was a lot stronger than the others he'd experienced, so much so, his hand trembled and he dropped the cup he was holding. It shattered on the kitchen floor, spilling the coffee. The pain was so intense he was drawn down to his knees. He tried to breathe short breaths to keep it under control and to keep him from groaning, but a soft grunt escaped.

Esperanza walked in on him when she heard the crash and immediately rushed to his side. She helped him into a nearby chair and kept holding his hand.

"Are you all right?" She asked, her own voice shaking with concern as she felt the muted intensity of the pain that was cutting through him. It amazed her that even diluted through her psychic touch, the pain felt sharp like a knife slicing through her chest. She couldn't even imagine what Dean was feeling, and how he was managing to keep from crying out.

Dean kept breathing erratically, long grunts filtering through, beads of sweat dotting his face and throughout his body, causing him to shiver involuntarily. Esperanza kept holding his hand. She was hoping to absorb some of his pain, or at the very least, provide any small amount of comfort to him. She felt a rush of sadness and frustration as Dean fought. It brought tears to her eyes. She was not only feeling his sadness, but her own intermingled with it. Even though she had only known the men for just a day, she felt herself connected to them deeply. Their emotions became her emotions, and feeling Dean in so much pain made her feel like a mother would for a seriously ill child. She felt like she was losing her own son.

Finally, his breathing eased as the pain dissipated. He closed his eyes, feeling suddenly exhausted. Esperanza went over to the sink and wet a clean dishtowel. She handed it to him and he took it gratefully.

"Thanks," he rasped out with a shaky smile.

"Are you sure you're okay?"

"Never better," he joked as he grimaced.

"I felt its intensity, and it was filtered when it got to me. How can you stand it without medication?" Esperanza wondered.

"I guess you could say, it comes with the job," he said. "Just have a high threshold for pain."

Esperanza felt the double meaning with his words.

"I see that," she acknowledged.

She felt Dean's worry and placed a comforting hand on his arm.

"I know you're worried about talking to Sam, telling him everything, but you have to, for his sake."

"I know," Dean said. "If something should go wrong during the healing, I need to know that Sam will be able to survive it. I know that you said last night that if something ever happened to me, Sam would be lost. Nothing scares me more than not being there for him, but I can't believe that I'm the only one who can protect him. I just won't believe that."

Dean took in a long breath to wash away the remaining pain. "I have to believe that Sam can be safe without me."

He looked imploringly into her eyes for confirmation.

"I don't have the answer to that, Dean. Not even your mother knows. All I can tell you is that Sam, as he is now, will not survive your death. He will become like Max and no one will be able to stop it, not even your father and your mother's voice won't be able to penetrate either. That is a certainty. What I can tell you is that if his condition changes, if we can make him see his own worthiness, bring back his confidence, his belief in his ability to control the direction of his life, then he will survive. The only person who can answer that is Sam."

Dean nodded. "Guess I have to bite the bullet then and talk to him, tell him everything."

**oooo**

About 30 minutes later, Sam had gotten up and found Dean in the living room.

"How are you feeling?" Dean asked.

"A little better."

"Did you get a good night's sleep for a change?"

"Yeh, yeh, I did," Sam said sounding surprised and relieved.

Dean swallowed hard, "Sammy, we have to talk."

"About what?" He asked as he walked over to join his brother on the couch.

Esperanza stood nearby in the kitchen, wanting to stay close in case Dean needed her.

"There are some things I need to tell you, that you need to know. Esperanza and I talked last night and she can definitely help, but you need to hear the whole story and it should come from me."

"Dean, you're scaring me," Sam said with trepidation in his voice.

"I'm not the confessional type so cut me some slack here, okay?" He joked. "When the demon attacked us –"

Dean saw Sam stiffen at the mention of the demon and the memory that went with it.

"I don't want to talk about –" Sam resisted.

"Well, you're going to have to. Sooner or later you're going to have to face up to what happened. You can't run away from it, believe me, I've tried, but I can't anymore and neither can you. You're letting it kill you piece by piece and it's gotta stop."

Sam sat silently though Dean wasn't sure if he was listening.

"When the demon attacked us –"

"Attacked you, you mean," Sam interrupted bitterly.

"No, Sam, I mean us. It tried to destroy our family that night, almost did, but it failed."

"No, I failed."

"You didn't fail, Sam. How can I get through to that thick head of yours that what happened wasn't your fault? Hell, you want to know the truth? I brought it on myself. I baited it."

"Yeh, I know, to save me, to keep it from me," Sam said angrily.

"Yeh? And what's wrong with that? I would do again in a second."

"I know that, don't you see, that's the problem. You were able to save me from it, keep me from getting hurt, nearly getting yourself killed in the process, but when you needed me to save you, I couldn't. I didn't!" Sam yelled.

"Sam, listen to me and listen good, all right? Would it have made any difference if you didn't know you had psychic abilities?"

"What? I don't understand–" Sam asked, confused.

"If it were just the demon and us, no special powers, nothing, would it have made a difference if it attacked me?"

Sam had to think for a second.

"No, I guess not."

"So, because you feel you have these gifts it should have made a difference, that you should have saved me?"

"Yes," Sam said softly, hating to be reminded that he had failed.

"That's a load of crap, Sam," Dean said strongly, so strongly that Sam looked up at him, surprised. "If it had been us against the demon, just like any other demon we've faced together, with nothing more than our skills as hunters, I would have been attacked anyway. Hell, who's to say that I would have been lucky enough to get the demon to focus on me at all? It still could have gotten to you. Do you get me now?"

Sam's eyes cleared in a way that he hadn't seen in a long time and it gave him the strength to keep going because the last bit of news could send Sam back down again.

"The other reason you're making this different is because it's not about just any demon. It's about THE demon, the one that killed mom and Jess. You wanted to kill it for what it did to them, but you couldn't because it would have meant killing our father. There is nothing wrong with that. That isn't failure, Sam. That shows humanity. Revenge and vengeance never will give you what you need. Look at what it's doing to you now."

Dean's determined face and posture was solid and firm. His belief in him was unquestioning and absolute.

"You have to get past this, if not for me, then for yourself. No more excuses."

"It's just that not knowing what these powers mean…"

"For a college boy, you have a real problem with patience, you know that? Yeh, we don't know what it all means, not yet, anyway, but I know you will someday and when you do, you'll be the most powerful son-of-a-bitch on this planet. But you need to know that I'd still be proud of you even if you just stayed my geek brother."

Sam laughed and it was the most beautiful noise Dean could have ever hoped to hear. Sam grew serious again.

"Dean, there's something you need to know. I've been keeping it from you because I haven't even wanted to think about it, but after all you just said, I think maybe we can fight this thing together." Sam paused. "I've been having visions…" He said, his voice trembling a little, "about you dying."

Dean felt a relief wash over him for the first time in 5 months. It seemed like they were finally making progress. His only worry now was how Sam would take learning about his injuries. Dean hoped that since he had just told him about the visions, Sam would focus on fighting them together instead of fighting against him like he had been.

"Sam, you're not the only one who's been holding something back. I've been doing the same thing because of the way you were feeling about what happened with the demon. I just didn't want to put you through anymore. You'd been through so much already, but now, you need to know everything," Dean struggled for the right words. "The injuries…they were…my heart…Damn it!"

Dean swore. He didn't want to sound weak, but he couldn't stop stumbling over his words because he didn't want to say the wrong thing.

Suddenly the kitchen door swung into the room and Esperanza stood there. They both stood and turned to face her.

"His heart was damaged by the demon. He's dying." Esperanza had spoken bluntly to help Dean. She believed that they couldn't sugarcoat things for Sam anymore.

"Thanks," Dean said softly.

Sam turned back to look at Dean. His face was beginning to crumble with lines of distress, as Dean had feared.

"Sam, take a hold of yourself," Esperanza urged, as he looked at her. "You can't lose control now. Don't waste the strength that Dean just gave you, by giving into fear."

"But my visions…" He uttered.

"Sam, look at me!" Dean demanded.

He did.

"Don't you give up on me!" Dean said firmly. "No matter what happens to me, you are NOT going to fall apart and let the bad guys win, you got me? It's not who we are, we weren't raised to be quitters. I know it's been hard, and I would give anything if I could change everything starting from when mom died so that you could have that storybook life you want so much, but I can't, no one can. We faced that demon, and as far as I'm concerned, we won. I don't give a rat's ass about not killing it. What I do care about is that we faced it and walked away, we lived, Sam. I got hurt, yeh, but Esperanza thinks that she can help with that. But before I even let her try, I HAVE to know from you and be sure in my gut, that if something does go wrong and I don't make it, or even if somewhere down in the future some evil gets me and I bite it that way, you WILL go on. You already know that as long as I'm around, I will be there for you, but YOU need to know that your life doesn't depend on me, dad, or anyone else. It can't because we're not forever, no one is. Live for the here and now, Sam, not in the past or future. I want to see that pain-in-the-ass little brother who defied everyone about what he could or could not do."

Esperanza was moved by Dean's inspiration. He had found the strength and the words he was so afraid he was incapable of finding. Nothing she could have said to Sam would have had the impact that his words had. She looked over at Sam and found his spirit solid again, no longer crumbling into an abyss of despair. It was a beautiful sight to behold.

Suddenly, though, the moment was broken as she saw Dean's knees buckling as if to pray, but there were no words of prayer on his lips, just an agonized grunt, he then placed his hands on the floor to brace himself from collapsing entirely, still struggling to breathe, and only producing groans from what little air he could get in and out of his lungs.

"Dean!" Sam cried out as he went down and reached for him.

"Sam, help me lay him on the couch," Esperanza said.

He did, but panic was etched on his face. "Oh, God," was all he could say.

"Dean?" She called, "Dean? Can you hear me?"

Dean's head turned to look at her. "Bad…not easing up…like usual…" he grunted.

"Where are your medications?"

"Don't need them…it'll pass eventually…"

"Stop being brave for a second and tell us where those medications are," Esperanza demanded softly.

Dean didn't have the strength to argue with her, and even he was beginning to realize that maybe this time he was going to need some help.

"In…duffel bag…"

"Sam, go up to the room and get them, please, now!"

Sam ran up the stairs to their room.

"I'm trying," Esperanza said to seemingly no one.

"W..what?" Dean asked, confused.

"Your mother's here. She's afraid for you. She's telling me not to let you die."

"Maybe…it's…better…said…what I needed…rest is up to Sam…"

"Dean Winchester, don't you dare let go, not now. This is not your time. Your job is not done, do you hear me!" She said firmly.

Dean nodded. "Yes…ma'am," he said with a shaky smile.

Esperanza smiled too, but she also found her cheeks wet with tears. She had never wanted someone to live more than Dean. It was as if his presence in this world was vital to her as well.

"Now show me that will to live," she said with a croak.

Sam had come down the stairs with several bottles. He handed her the one he read was for pain then got some water in a glass from the kitchen. Esperanza was about to lift Dean up to give him the pill, but Sam stopped her.

"Let me do it. Please?"

She smiled and took a breath, "there it is," she whispered so softly that only their mom could hear.

Sam went over and put his arm underneath Dean's head and neck then lifted him upright. Dean grimaced and groaned. She opened the bottle and handed Sam a pill. With his shaky hand, Sam gently popped it into Dean's mouth. He fed him the water slowly from the glass. Sam then laid him back down.

"If you ever…mention this moment again…I will kill you…" Dean joked despite the pain.

Sam just smiled, "Jerk."

"Bitch…" Dean smiled himself.

Esperanza's hope soared feeling the barrier between them finally fall away.

**To Be Continued….**


	4. Chapter 4

**Pure Heart and Good Intention**

**Chapter Four**

After about an hour, the pain had eased back to a bearable level, at least bearable for Dean. He sat back up with Sam's help, still grunting from soreness.

"Maybe we should do the healing tomorrow so you can rest –" Esperanza suggested.

Dean reached out his hand, trembling with weakness and pain, and touched her arm. She looked at him and saw his ashen face. He gave her a knowing look and she knew. Time was running out for him.

"I think it's now or never," Dean rasped tiredly, but still, with a weak smile on his face.

She nodded her head.

"Then let's do this," she said, "Sam, help me seat him between us."

Sam complied gently, but Dean couldn't hold back his pain-driven jerks, hisses, grunts and moans.

"Dean, are you sure you can do this?" She asked.

"Yeh, yeh, tell me what you need me to do," Dean grimaced, the pain was manageable, but it wasn't leaving, the medication was only helping to keep it just under the surface.

"All you need to do is relax and save your strength. Sam, when I tell you, put your hand on his chest, over his heart. You are his kindred. Your power lies in healing what is damaged in him. Don't remove it until I tell you. I will put my hand on his head. I will be tapping into his spirit center then you and I will hold hands to complete the circle. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

"I have to tell you both that there will be pain for all of us because with any healing, there is not only the person being healed, but energy being taken from those who are trying to heal them. We can't break the bond, if we do, Dean could die just from that disconnect alone. There will also be thoughts and emotions exchanged. It's a part of the psychic connection so be prepared for that. Are you both ready?"

"Yes," They chorused as they often did in an eerily connected way.

"Okay, then Sam, put your hand on Dean's chest."

Sam did. Dean then suddenly grabbed his hand and weakly squeezed.

"Sam, remember what I said, no matter what, you go on, you got that?"

"Yeh, I got that."

"And Sam?"

"Yeh?"

"Be good, little brother or I will so haunt your ass."

Sam smiled and no more words needed to be said between them. Esperanza touched Dean's head and placed her thumb on his temple.

"Esperanza," Dean said, "thanks for everything."

"Thank me when we're done," She smiled back.

She and Sam held hands and completed the circle.

"Close your eyes and focus on your fondest memories," She said.

Dean recalled when their mom first brought Sam home from the hospital and let him hold him for the very first time. Their mom had prepared him for his role from the moment she knew she was going to have a baby. She told him that big brothers had to be protectors of little brothers and that he would be the bravest big brother of them all. Remembering her smile, her touch, her trust, those were his fondest childhood memories and he could feel her now, helping them through the healing.

Sam had to reach further forward to remember the good times. For him, they were fewer and farther between because their mom had already died and their father had already begun his crusade to avenge her death. Sam's best memories were with Dean, both as a child and as an adult. The warmth of his big brother's protection came with his first fear. There had been one night when they were all alone. Sam had been 5 years old and Dean just 9, too young to have taken on so much responsibility, but his capability to do the job was evident from the start. With a gun loaded full of salt in his small hands, Dean had shielded Sam and shot a spirit heading towards them. Once it had disintegrated, Dean had taken Sam's hand firmly and rushed them to safety. Sam had never felt unsafe whenever Dean was around from that moment on.

Suddenly there were electrical impulses passing between all three of them. The first to stiffen in pain was Dean and he grunted. More images played across his mind of all the various hunts he'd been on, both with his father and Sam. Emotions were assaulting him as well as the pain that went with them, loss, failure, battle wounds, they all came at him in a rush, like a wind hitting him hard. Then came the voices.

"_You, me and dad. I want us to be together again. I want us to be a family again."_

"_But he looked at me different, you know? Which was worse. Not that I blame him. He gave me an order and I didn't listen. I almost got you killed."_

"_You hate me that much?"_

"_I know she wanted me to be brave."_

"_And I do my best to be brave."_

Sam felt them too, and his own began to join with Dean's.

"_Long as I'm around, nothing bad is gonna happen to you."_

"_Dean, we are a family. I'd do anything for you, but things will never be the way they were before."_

"_I don't want them to be. I'm not gonna live this life forever."_

"_Hey, Dean, you saved my life back here."_

"_Maybe we can help some others, makes things a little more bearable."_

Dean cried out like he had when the demon had cut into him and he arched in pain. Sam felt a shiver of remembrance hit him. He hated seeing Dean in any kind of pain, but that night, with that demon, hearing Dean's cry of agony, it would always give him a chill when he thought of it. He then felt the resistance against his hand and did everything he could to hold it there. He felt the flow of energy go from his body to Dean's and his hand felt warm, but he didn't know if he was giving it or receiving it.

Dean felt their mom's spirit enter him. It was a warm, chicken-soup kind of comfort that only she could give him. In his mind, he saw her smiling at him. She then reached out to touch his face and he found himself leaning into it.

"Dean…" She said.

Dean, hearing her voice again, relaxed at the sound. It had the same timbre it did when he had gotten sick and needed comforting as a child.

"Mom…I'm glad you're here," he said.

"I wouldn't be anywhere else, honey. Hold on, Dean. Don't give up. I know it feels easier to let go, but please hang on."

"I'm trying, mom. I want to for Sam."

"I know you do."

"Mom…" he said, "I miss you."

"I'll always be with you just like I am now. Take my strength, Dean. You take so little and give so much, given up so much for dad, for Sam and you never take anything for yourself. I'm sorry my death took away so much from you," she said.

"Don't be, mom. It's not your fault. I don't have any regrets."

"I know you don't. I love you so much. I'll always love you, don't forget that."

"I never do," he said, "I love you, too."

She disappeared from Dean's mind and into Sam's. She wanted to give her strength to both her sons.

"Sam…"

"Mom…" Sam said as his eyes filled with tears.

"I'm sorry," she said.

"For what?" Sam asked, remembering the same conversation at their home in Kansas, wondering then, what she meant.

"For taking away your childhood, for leaving you alone."

"Don't be, mom. I wasn't alone. I had Dean. I know that more now than ever. I just wish I had known you."

"You did, sweetie. Through Dean, you did know me. He did the best he could to give you the kind of childhood I would have given you. He took care of you. He remembered and showed you so much," she said.

She reached and touched Sam's face as she had Dean's.

"You are a good man, Sam. Don't ever doubt that. You're meant for good things, but only if you keep yourself from falling into self-pity. Dean can't protect you from that. No one can. Don't shut him out. Believe what he's told you. He will never let you down."

"I know, mom."

"I love you, Sammy."

"I love you, too."

Suddenly, her face changed from peaceful to shock.

"Oh, God…" she gasped, "no!"

"What? What is it, mom?"  
"Save him, Sam! Please save him!" She said plaintively.

Sam was then ripped from the calm world he was in with his mother back to Esperanza's living room. He opened his eyes, then looked over at Dean. His face was clenched in pain. He then moaned loudly and fell limp, his head lolling down to his chest just like it had 5 months ago and another chill hit Sam, but he quickly pushed it aside. Dean's unconsciousness severed the connection between them.

"No, no, Dean!" Sam cried. "Esperanza help me get him on the floor."

She did, and Sam quickly began CPR after checking for a pulse and not finding one. He was trying desperately to keep panic from taking over, focusing on how much Dean needed him and that he couldn't let him down.

"No, Dean, don't do this! Not now, not like this. I won't let you go. I'm not letting you go, do you hear me?"

Esperanza watched as Sam fought for Dean's life. She closed her eyes and put her hand on Dean's forehead. She exerted all her psychic energy into Dean just as Sam was doing the same with his physical strength to revive him.

"Sam, he hears you. Keep going. He's not giving up, but his body is tired. Don't give up on him."

Sam doubled his efforts when she told him that Dean was still with them, trying to fight to live wherever he was.

Esperanza tried to connect to Dean, "Dean, take your mother's strength, take my strength, use them as tethers to bind you here with us. Feel Sam fighting for you. Let him fight for you. Your mother's right, you take so little for yourself, but now's the time to reach out to us, Dean. You don't have to do this on your own."

Dean then suddenly gasped and coughed. Sam stopped the CPR.

"Dean? Can you hear me?" Sam asked softly.

"Sam..." Dean rasped and smiled, "You're…not going to let me…live this down, are you?"

Sam smiled widely.

"Hell, no," he retorted.

"Thanks," Dean said.

"For what?"

"For being here…for always being there…" Dean breathed tiredly, "For saving my life…"

Sam's eyes started to well up, unable to find the right words, but Dean's look was enough to tell him he didn't need to.

Dean coughed again, trying to even his breathing out. Esperanza came around and looked at Dean's face. He gave her a weak smile.

"Can I…thank you…now?"

She just smiled back.

"We should take you to a hospital to make sure you're all right," Sam suggested.

"I just need to rest. No hospital. Okay? I'll likely…get something or they'll find something I never had…" Dean half-joked insistently. "Think a week's worth of sleep'll do me."

Sam smiled and shook his head. Esperanza placed her hand on Dean's chest, reassured by its steady rise and fall as well as the strong rhythm of his heart.

"It's all right, Sam," she said. "He's all right."

"Is he healed?" Sam asked with hope rising in his throat.

"Yes," she said, feeling relieved herself, "Let's get him on the couch for now and let him sleep."

They settled Dean in and put a blanket over him. Sleep had overtaken him already.

**oooo**

Sam sat curled up in a nearby chair, unable to sleep. He kept looking at Dean and then thought of his mom.

"She's still here, you know," Esperanza said as she sat in another chair near him.

"I wish we had more time together," Sam said wistfully.

"She can feel and hear you, Sam. You can always have time with her."

"I know, but –"

"What do you need to tell her?"

Sam looked over at Dean.

"I guess she already knows, but I just want to tell her how sorry I am that I didn't treat her death like I should have. All I saw was dad's crusade to avenge it. He was too…grief-stricken, I guess, to tell me much. It was just too painful for him. Dean did all that," Sam said as he looked at Dean again, "He helped me see her."

"She's telling me it's all right. You were too young. You only understood what your father was feeling after you lost Jess and she would give anything if you never had, but Dean, even though he remembers everything, didn't let hate or revenge touch him. It's why his presence is so vital to you and to other innocents. He hasn't been compromised and is incorruptible. He's seen evil, looked it straight in the eye, and faced it without running. He's been afraid, sure, but not of evil, but of failing to stop it."

"I know. He can be a pain in the butt sometimes, but I know that I can always count on him. I've known it since I was a kid."

Dean groaned awake, "Mind not talking ill of the dead."

Sam and Esperanza laughed lightly. Dean's sarcastic humor was reassurance that he was going to be okay. He slowly tried to sit up. Though he managed it, it wasn't without some difficulty.

"Hey, you're supposed to be asleep, dude," Sam said.

"How can anyone get any sleep with you yammering away?"

"Do you want to go upstairs and into a real bed?" Esperanza asked.

"Nah, I'm up for the duration, I just won't be going anywhere anytime soon," Dean jibed.

"You in a hurry to get somewhere?" She teased.

"Thankfully, no."

"Good, guess I'll make us some lunch. You up to eating?"

"I may be incapacitated, but my appetite is still healthy."

"Great."

Esperanza smiled broadly, seeing Dean like his old self again.

"So, you okay?" Dean asked Sam.

"I'm fine. I'm not the one looking like he got the crap kicked out of him," Sam smiled.

"Hey, hey, respect your elders here. I can still whip your ass."

"I'd like to see you try," Sam said, still smiling.

"Maybe later," Dean said.

They both took a moment.

"Mom's still here," Sam said softly.

"I know. She always will be." Dean confirmed.

"Dean, I –"

"You don't have to say it. I know. Same goes for me."

The brothers just looked at each other and let the comfortable silence and their mother's presence envelope them.

**Fin**

**Thanks again to Tiffany for doing the beta for this story. It was a tremendous help.**


End file.
